


In This Together

by J_E_McCormick



Series: Hidden Lore [1]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: M/M, Mild Horror, mild sexual themes, so keep that in mind, this is based pretty much solely on the Hidden Lore timeline of events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_E_McCormick/pseuds/J_E_McCormick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fred doesn't really know how this started happening, or why he's let it continue. Well, he does, but...</p>
<p>But it's complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In This Together

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I've already mentioned in the tags, but this is all based off MrCreepyPasta's Hidden Lore series on YouTube. I just really love his versions of the characters, and since I've recently gotten some of my steam back and been kicked into the FNAF hole again after reading The Silver Eyes, I decided why not run with some of the inspiration it gave me. This does mean some things might not add up with game canon.
> 
> If you haven't watched the series before, go and [ check it out here!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSbTiL3iKoA)
> 
> I'll have some more clarification notes at the end, but for now, enjoy the fic!

Fred isn’t really sure how this started happening.

It was wrong, he knew that. Peter was his employee, bosses weren’t meant to get involved with their employees. And then there was Peter himself…. God, he’d fallen for a killer. Not just a killer, a serial killer, a serial _child_ killer. He’d seen the man with blood streaked up his forearms, seen him hold a dead body like it was some kind of broken toy, seen him hum to himself and smile as he mopped up blood and bleached out stains and gotten rid of evidence.

And he was _still_ letting the man into his bed.

Peter was three years his junior, but taller than he was, lean and attractive. He had a purpose to his movement, a grace that made it seem that every step had been pre-planned and rehearsed, and his voice was deep, low, calm, hardly ever raised beyond quiet speech. He was quite stoic, his tone almost monotone, his expression always carefully controlled. And _goddammit_ , Fred had been smitten after the first week.

He’d been perhaps a little overfriendly with the guard for a few months. Peter was controlled as ever, but never rejected him or pushed him away; he seemed to welcome the positive attention. Maybe he was just glad to be advancing up the ranks a little faster than the others, but Fred liked to think that maybe, Peter felt for him.

And then **_it_ ** had happened, the first incident, and it seemed like everything was going to fall apart. Fred’s business was ruined, he’d lose all the money he invested in the place, he’d never be able to start again…

“I can make this work. I’ll take care of it.” Peter had said. And then he’d disposed of the body, and Fred had helped him clean up the suits, and luckily the security cameras had crapped out the day before so there was no footage. Just Fred and Peter and the sick knowledge that a kid had been killed here and he was helping cover it up.

The first time happened sometime after that. Fred had still been trying to get over the whole thing; he thinks he might have been crying in his office, thinking about the poor kid with his head all smashed in, Peter carrying him away to god-knows-where while he had just stared at the blood and gore dripping from Fredbear’s mouth.

He’d never thought he would be a criminal, he’d never planned on it. He just wanted a good, honest business, and that had all gone downhill before he’d even been open a year.

Peter had walked in, pausing in the doorway when he saw Fred bent over his desk, face in his hands and his shoulders shaking a little.

“I’ve closed up shop.” He said, voice low and steady as ever. For a long moment there was quiet, as Peter seemed to wait for a response. He got none. “Fred…”

“What, Peter?” Fred had meant for his tone to be sharp; instead it came out wavering and weak.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Peter’s tone wasn’t quite comforting, but it was something in that direction. He’d walked over to Fred’s side and rested a large, warm hand on his shoulder. Fred let out a weak, terrified laugh.

“How is it not my fault, Peter? These are my suits, my restaurant, and that kid…”

“It’s not your fault that those idiots pushed the kid into the suit’s mouth.” Peter cut him off. “There are signs telling them not to touch the suits, we told them to back off, and they didn’t. It’s _their_ fault, not yours.”

“But now I’m covering it all up-”

“We’re in this together. Remember? You’re not alone in this.” Peter’s hand squeezed Fred’s shoulder, and Fred let out a shaky sigh. “It’ll all work out. Together, we’ll make sure it all works out.”

“It’s just all so fucked up. This shit is so fucked up.” Fred breathed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. For a moment it had been still, silent, and then Peter had spoken.

“Let me help you forget about it all for a while.” He’d said, and then his hand had slipped from Fred’s shoulder to trail down his side.

Fred had looked up, shocked, and Peter had just stared at him, expression controlled, eyes sharp and watchful as his hand had moved lower and lower until he was pressing lightly at the front of Fred’s trousers. Fred had been speechless, mouth hanging open as he tried to think of something to say. He should have said no, he knew that, Peter was his employee and they were still in his office, this was terribly inappropriate and especially right _now_ …

But he had been longing after the man for months. He’d been wishing he could ask him out, take him home, be with him. And this was a small town; there wasn’t a large gay scene if there was one at all, and even if there had been Fred was keeping it a secret, because small towns didn’t tend to take kindly to things like this and he didn’t want it to ruin his business. He hadn’t been sure how to approach this at all, and now here he was, with Peter stroking him through his trousers and staring into his eyes. The perfect opportunity. How could he say no?

He couldn’t. He hadn’t really been able to say yes, either, but he’d reached out and cupped the back of Peter’s head, pulling him down so he could kiss him soundly. It had taken a moment, but Peter had responded, kissing back slowly but surely, methodical and controlled, his hand moving to the same rhythm as his lips. Fred hadn’t done anything to stop him, not that time, and not any time after that.

He supposes that’s how it started happening. That’s how it’s continued, too. He just didn’t tell Peter to stop. Not even after the next incident, or the next, or the next.

In truth, he didn’t want him to stop. Peter was his friend, the only person he shared these secrets with; the secrets of himself, and the secrets of The First Incident. Peter was steady and strong and calm, and his presence soothed Fred’s nerves as much as it sometimes set them on edge. Peter always seemed to have a plan, even when Fred didn’t. He always seemed like he was three steps ahead of everyone, calculating the next moves.

Besides, _they were in this together_. Peter always reminded him of that. Peter always told him that they could make everything work, _together_. To stop it would be to stop _them_ , would be to split them, would be to isolate himself – and Fred didn’t think he could handle this alone. And as long as they were in this together, why not enjoy the mutual benefits of togetherness? Why should he deny himself this pleasure, this thing he’d wanted for so long?

It didn’t matter what happened. It didn’t matter what Peter did. It didn’t matter how wrong this was, how inappropriate, how immoral. What mattered was that Fred wanted Peter, and Peter wanted Fred, and they were in this together.

At least, that’s what Fred always told himself as he rolled over, cushioned his head on two pillows, and closed his eyes to sleep, Peter’s weight still on the bed behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to quickly clarify: Peter doesn't have any feelings for Fred. He's using Fred's feelings to manipulate him; both before and after the first incident. His constant reminders of how they're "in this together" is pretty much just a tactic to stop Fred from spilling anything or reporting him to the police. Fred is pretty much just an employer (and accomplice) with benefits to him.
> 
> Any and all feedback is super appreciated!! I'm personally really happy with how this turned out, so I'd love to hear other people's opinions on it too. I'm also considering writing more based on the Hidden Lore series, so more feedback makes that more likely.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
